You're My Best Friend (Pt. 3)
Dibby gasped for air when she woke, the Forever Forest air chilling her senses to the bone. Where was she? Taking a glimpse around her surroundings, she soon recognized, through the grayness, the same familiar treescape that greeted her when she arrived at the Boo Kingdom; she was on the roof of the train station. A great haze of tobacco smoke drifted through the trees, it’s thin line connected to a certain raven that Dibby may or may not have some VERY choice words for. “Hey Francis, I have a few questions for you,” Dibby spat. No answer. His muteness bothers her more than the hollowness she felt in her gut, or the billowing smoke that stained her mask. Francis knew this all too well, chuckling to himself in an attempt to irk Dibby. "Hey asshole, answer me now before I send you flying off of this roof." Her voice hissed with false anger. “Take me to the queen befor-” “Her name is Bow, you idiot.” That’s when Francis stood up and turned to face Dibby, his enormous yellow eyes glaring unremorsefully. He only stared at the aberration, not making any effort to close the distance between them. Non-threateningly, Dibby moved closer to the edge of the roofing, sitting next to Francis as he flicked his cigarette away. The full moon had dropped below the horizon, the familiar dark haze of early morning stained the predawn sky. They sat there quietly, without a word. “Do you remember the times when we used to walk all the way to Toad Town and back? When you were part of the living?” Finally said the small raven. “That’s the first question you ask me, huh? How about you explain to me why you attacked me!” A tinge of salty, but sweet anger flowed through Dibby’s veins. Francis only got angrier. “You REALLY don’t get it, do you?” Francis stared daggers of pure animosity at her, Dibby couldn’t help but shuffle away from him. “This entire city is runned by a rigorous hierarchy; I couldn’t let you go off scot-free! It would’ve broadcasted defeat among the entire mafia!” Francis’ bird-face was as contorted as it could possibly be, his anger boiling over like a pool of lava. Dibby couldn't even risk making eye contact with him. “The person you’re talking about — Lady Bow, you’re wrong about her.” His eyebrows were dark and straight with a depressed expression, his beak black with the dry stench of nicotine. “The power… it corrupted her beyond my control. I tried Dibby, I really tried to stop it.” Was this… sadness? Francis expressing actual sadness? A little out of character, don’t you think? His anger cooled as his clenched fist loosened. The dull, fitful lights of the train station gleamed in the fog. Their maintenance was a low priority, as most everything in the Boo Kingdom. "I don’t plan on killing Lady Bow," she croaked, moving closer to Francis to pat him on the back, which unintentionally turned into a rough slap on the shoulder. Then she moved away. No one else was likely to notice such an exchange, or think it more than an awkward, well-meant comfort among old friends. “And yes, I do remember the old days.” That was a lie. In truth, Dibby hardly remembered the old days. After her corporal form erased itself from existence, so did its memories; only vague flashes of her past life presents itself whenever it sees fit. But the white lie did earn her a smile from Francis, so perhaps it was worth it. “Get some rest, alright?” Francis stubbed his cigarette on the asphalt tiling before turning to face Dibby. “I’m leaving for the Glitz Pit tomorrow.” '---' ' '“You're running your campaign on borrowed time, Dibby.” “And YOU are using my last paycheck to buy a one-way ticket to Glitzville.” The air was cool and damp; a clear indication that winter was near. The train station teemed with early morning “traffic”, five boos lined the inside of the train station, and a friendly snifit busked with his trumpet lively in the center. Francis grabbed his briefcase and popped the collar of his tan trench coat, his train ticket in hand. He looked back hesitantly as he stepped onto the first few steps of the boarding station, his eyes flickering with brief glimpses of sadness. Ever since he was a hatchling, Francis wanted to be a battler; why was he so hesitant? “Listen, Francis… please don't mention me to any of the battlers. I don't want them getting —” “— the wrong idea? Yeah, I get it Dibby,” Francis let out a long sigh. He continued, “I'm not doing this for you, I'm doing this for me.” The ruffle of his feathers suggested a new prowess for the small raven. As the train whistle sounded unremorsefully threw their conversation, Francis looked like he was choking on his own words. “H-Hey, Dibby!” He stammered out, in a voice gone funny. “I have something to tell you.” There was a long, awkward pause after that statement, and Francis refused to make eye contact with Dibby. “Cat got your tongue, Francis?” She asked smugly. Francis scratched his neck awkwardly before suddenly tugging her into a hug. “... T-Take care of yourself, alright?! The mafia can be vicious to new members, especially ones with a lot of responsibility.” She was subtle, but he noticed that she briefly looked at the distance between them, a trace of suspicion in her gaze. He couldn’t help but feel offended, pulling away from her slightly. But when he blinked, she was back to her regular, easygoing self. “I’m sure they won’t hold any hard feelings,” she replied cheekily. Francis merely grunted a reply — maybe in an attempt to dispel any awkwardness — before boarding the train to Rogueport, seating himself near a window. “Before you ask, yes, I’ll remember to write you,” Francis said through the train window. “I have an entire wad of paper with your name on it.” Dibby only chuckled in response. As the train slowly pulled out of the station, Dibby couldn’t help but chase after it, albeit half-assedly. “Be sure to read that book I gave you, the one on anger management!” She yelled, hoping Francis would catch it. He peeked through his window subtly, but Dibby could tell that he was choking on his words, again. What was he trying to say? His fleeting wave goodbye was the last time Dibby ever saw Francis. She never knew what he was going to say.